Babysitting & Potty Time

There is a beauty to living out in the country in a little white farmhouse.  Scotty had fields to run and play in, but only if Frank and I were watching him closely.

Our friend, Tommy, the head coach, spent a lot of time at our house.  Frank and he had dug a hole to put hot mesquite wood coals into after they had started a fire next to the pit with the wood.  Once they had enough coals in the pit, they placed a wire rack on top of the hole to cook hamburger patties or hot dogs.  We would all gather around the fire, talk, and then eat when the hamburgers or hot dogs had finished cooking.

Sometimes while Tommy and Frank were collecting wood for the fire, I would make a quick trip to town for condiments, buns, and chips while they took care of Scotty. The next story is about one of their babysitting adventures.

Fetching Babysitting

Since it was Saturday, it was time for our weekly BBQ.  Tommy got to our home at about four o’clock in the afternoon, and I decided to make a run to the store in town to get some fresh hamburger for our cookout.  Frank and Tommy said they would be happy to babysit Scotty while I drove into town to shop.

I was probably only gone about forty-five minutes. Upon returning to the house and pulling into the driveway, I noticed that Frank, Tommy, and Scotty were out in one of the cultivated fields that surrounded our home. After unloading the groceries, I walked towards the plowed field, and then I saw Frank lift his shotgun and fire it into the sky then something fell from the air onto the ground. Immediately, Scotty ran out into the field, stopped, and picked up something then came running back to Frank and Tommy just as I got to where they were.

Scotty saw me then ran to me saying, “Look Mommy, bird.”

In his hand was a dead bloody bird. Well, this Mommy was livid. I looked at Frank with fire shooting out of my eyes then asked him, “Frank, you are letting my baby fetch dead birds?”

Frank looked at me and knew that I was not happy with him, so he started smiling using the ole dimple trick, then said, “Nancy, I know what you are thinking, but it is Dove season, and he wants to help us with the birds.”

Well, that didn’t suffice as an answer for me at all as I replied, “Frank, he is just a baby, and he has blood all over his hands and shirt!”

Frank answered, “Nancy, he is a little boy, and you need to calm down, or you’re gonna scare him.  He is having fun, and that blood will wash off.”

Meanwhile, Scotty was looking up at me smiling with those same baby dimples, still holding the dead bird, and telling me over and over, “Look Mommy bird. Look Mommy bird.”

It occurred to me at that exact moment that I would never win with those two dimple-faced guys, ever. They both had me at one look into those dimpled-faces, plus I knew that Frank was right.  Being raised with four brothers who loved to hunt and fish, I knew how young they were when they first were taught to hunt and fish.

Frank took the bird from Scotty’s hand, then Frank told Scotty, “You are a big boy, and you did a great job helping with the birds.”

As I took Scotty’s hand to take him with me back to the house, Frank kissed my cheek and told me he loved me.  Frank knew that I had a fear of losing Scotty, but he also knew that I wanted Scotty to grow up unafraid to live life to the fullest.

When Scotty and I reached the house, I gave him a warm soapy bath.  The entire bathing process all he talked about was Daddy and the birds.   The hardest thing about raising a child is to let them experience life without smothering them, except with kisses, of course.

Frank and Tommy cleaned the birds and made a fire next to the pit while I bathed Scotty then they placed the Doves on the grill over the fire pit to cook. That night Scotty had his first taste of Dove cooked over our fire pit, and, of course, he loved cooked Dove.

Football season in La Pryor ended and then it was time for Thanksgiving and Christmas.  Frank, Scotty, and I did not go to see our folks at Thanksgiving because we did not have a long enough break and it was quite a distance to both of their homes, but we did travel to visit them all at Christmas.  Since my parents had moved to Plano, Texas at the same time that we had moved to La Pryor, Texas, the distance between their homes had changed from three miles to close to 300 miles.

Being with one family on Christmas Eve and the other family on Christmas Day took a little strategic planning by us.  Before we left La Pryor for Christmas break, Frank and I decided that we would go to Van Vleck, Texas to visit his folks a few days before Christmas Eve and stay until midnight Christmas Eve. At midnight Christmas Eve we would drive all-night, a six-hour trip to Plano, Texas. This plan would put us at my parent’s house early in the morning Christmas Day then we would spend some days with them after Christmas. With all of our plans made, as soon as school turned out for the Christmas holidays, Frank, Scotty and I loaded up the Volkswagen and headed for Van Vleck.

We had a great visit with Frank’s family, and it seemed like the days passed by too quickly.  On Christmas Eve, the whole family gathered at Frank’s folk’s home.  We opened presents, ate way too much great food, and had such a wonderful time.  At midnight, Frank, Scotty and I bid them farewell then started our drive to Plano.  Since Scotty was so little, we had made him a bed in the back seat, thinking he would quite possibly sleep most of the way to Plano which would make the trip so much easier on him.

Frank and I loved driving during the night, and it was something we had done many times together.  We had some of our best discussions and decided some of our dreams for the future driving at night.  We had not taken an all-night trip since Scotty was born, so this would be a new experience for all of us.

“I Need Go Potty”

Before we could drive to the end of Frank’s folk’s driveway, Scotty was fast asleep in the backseat.  It was way past his bedtime, and he was worn out from all of the partying. Frank had decided to take the back road, called Pledger Road, to Wharton, Texas. When we got on Pledger Road, neither of us could see a vehicle on the road in front of us.  Frank turned the radio on and set the volume low so as not to wake Scotty or interrupt our conversation.

After a curve in the road, we came up behind a car that was traveling very slowly, but not only that, the car was weaving from one side of the road to the other side.  Then Frank and I had a discussion.

Frank to me:  “Nancy that the car in front of us is only going thirty miles an hour.

Me to Frank: “Frank, please just stay way behind him because he is weaving and may crash.”

Frank to me: “Nancy, I am not going to follow that car at this speed to Wharton when I could be going sixty miles an hour.”

Me to Frank:  “Frank, please just stay back behind the car.”

Well, Frank thought about what I said for at least a half second, or less then spoke to me.

Frank to me: “Nancy, I am gonna pass him.  I have been counting and timing his weaving.”

Me to Frank, “Frank, what if he…”

Suddenly, Frank floored the gas pedal, let out a loud “Whoop,” then passed that vehicle loudly laughing the whole time. Of course, I could not help but laugh with him while I silently thanked God that I had not wet my britches.  Frank’s laughter was contagious if he laughed; you could not help but laugh with him, and he was so fearless.  I loved these two beautiful things about him.

Frank and I finally stopped laughing and thank goodness, Scotty did not wake up from the whooping and laughing. We drove on into the night and talked about everything while listening to music.  In 1975, on holidays, there were very few places to stop for a break, but we knew where some truck stops were along our route.  We had a thermos of coffee, some canned sodas, and some snacks that we had brought along with us, so we only stopped once for a potty break.  Since Scotty was asleep in the back seat, we did the potty break in shifts.

Finally, the sun was coming up on the horizon, and we could see Dallas, Texas, rising up in front of us on the horizon. Frank had just driven up onto a ramp to get on the Freeway when we heard a little voice from the back seat, “Mommy, I need to go potty.”

Frank looked at me, and I looked at him, there was no place to pull over to stop the car, and both of us were wondering what to do. I looked around and then remembered that there was an empty soda can in our trash bag. I told Scotty to stand in the seat, and I would help him to go potty. I was scared to death that he would cut himself on the lid to the soda can, but I knew desperate times sometimes call for soda cans.

All was going well until Frank hit a bump in the road with the car. Oh, my goodness! Scotty was in full tinkle as he stepped backward in the seat and the can nearly fell from my hand.  Tinkle started spraying the whole car, the windshield, the back of Frank’s head, and almost got me in the face.  Frank could barely drive because he was laughing so hard, and Scotty and I were laughing too.   One thing for sure, Scotty was so right when he said he needed to go potty.

Finally, Frank found a place to pull off of the freeway then with the help of lots of paper towels from a bathroom, and we were able to clean up the tinkle car and all of us.

As we pulled back up on to the Freeway, Scotty told me he was hungry, but this time I was prepared. I gave him some homemade cookies that Frank’s Mom had sent with us for snacks.  That little boy was so happy.

We made it to my folk’s home without any further incidents, but oh what a story we had to tell.

After we returned to La Pryor from Christmas break, it was basketball season.  Frank was coaching all sports so he would be coaching boys and girls basketball both High School and Junior High.  We were now entering into 1976 and could only imagine what else was in store for us in La Pryor, Texas.

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